


Nobody appreciates deadpool/spiderman so I have to write a stupid fic.

by theuntoldfortune



Category: Marvel, not mcu - Fandom
Genre: M/M, this is not underage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theuntoldfortune/pseuds/theuntoldfortune
Summary: Set in the comic universe of marvel, in which Peter is in his mid twenties and is like a real person. Here's a hot take: No i'm not talking about toby mcguire or andrew garfield or even tom holland, I'm talking about the comics thank u very much.





	Nobody appreciates deadpool/spiderman so I have to write a stupid fic.

Peter stepped in front of the mirror and looked at his tired expression. He had given up trying to look decent since he no longer had many social obligations, so his eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and his hair hung untrimmed in his face, mousy and brown. He sighed and turned away, pulling a hoodie over the tight spandex emblazoned with a spider on the front.

He headed out the front door, turning the inside lock before shutting it tight. Sighing at the out of order sign on the elevator, he turned sharply and went down the stairs, skipping every few steps to avoid the cracks in the apartment building's stairway. He waved at the man sitting in the lobby as he pushed the door open and stepped onto the bustling city street.

Peter felt his mask in his pocket, the cool fabric rubbing against his fingers. He took a few minutes trying to catch a taxi, eventually flagging one with an older driver who smiled kindly in response to Peter's direction. Staring out the window, he wondered if he needed to turn back- he could just tell whomever he was meeting with that he changed his mind, or left the oven on, or something. Maybe he could show up and just not reveal himself. No, he thought, he had to go. He didn't have a choice. 

He payed and thanked the taxi driver as he got out and turned towards the quaint little coffee shop. Why did they want to meet here? He walked in and quickly ordered a drink before sitting down at a small table by the window, trying not to look suspicious as he scanned the area. It was a small place, with friendly staff and one or two customers other than him. The music was pleasant, and the atmosphere was welcoming. Probably not a secret hideout, probably. 

Peter was reading the advertising on the pamphlets that lay on the window when the door rang cheerily and the room went quiet. He turned around to see a masked man in a red suit walking confidently through the room- as if he didn't realize how powerful he was. Deadpool himself reached the counter and pulled out a wallet. 

"Caramel latte, please."

When the barista didn't respond, he made a dramatic gesture. 

"Relax, I'm just here to talk to drink coffee," he waved his hand in a general gesture. "And also talk to Spiderman. Don't worry, he'll protect you." He said that last part in a loud and sarcastic tone.

Fuck. 

A man got out of his seat and quickly left the building. Peter stood as well, walking out as if he was afraid of what would happen if he stayed- which he was. He crossed behind the building into a convenient alleyway, shedding off his hoodie and jeans as fast as possible. He paused. Do I really need to be doing this right now?

He re-entered the small coffee shop, receiving the expected stares and silence. He found his way over to Deadpool, who now had a foam coffee mustache across his mask. He sat across the table and stared at the mercenary, who continued to lean his chair back lazily. 

"Why did you want to talk to me?" Peter murmured, trying to keep the onlookers from hearing. 

He hadn't really talked to Deadpool before. He knew about him, and he knew the things he did, but he didn't think he was bad enough to really confront- in fact, he actually did a lot of things that were morally right.

"I just wanted to let you know that there's been some information getting on about you lately. Ive taken care of most of it, but you should probably do something."

Deadpool said this as if he was a friend letting Peter know he had just fixed part of his car, but he still needed to take it into the shop. Peter was confused at how nonchalant and friendly the other man acted, despite having done the things he had done before. 

"Anyway," Deadpool stood and wiped the foam from his face, leaving a streak of coffee stain. "Catch you later, honey." He flicked a folded piece of paper onto the table and pointed finger guns. The bell on the door rang as he sauntered out.

People stared, slack jawed, at Peter as he sat and stared at the half empty cappuccino Deadpool left behind. He gripped the paper- still folded- in his hand, standing abruptly and throwing a $20 on the table before rushing out.

 

Peter sat on the floor of his apartment, staring at the unfolded paper in his lap. 

" There are rumors that your real name is parker, and that you work at a pizza place. Word's gotten through to some powerful people. Just be careful." 

It was signed with the name Deadpool, and had a phone number at the bottom of the page.

"Damn." 

Peter got out his phone.


End file.
